Whispers in the Dark
by Owlkin
Summary: A joint venture between Owklin and Aereal. Post BV: With the threat of Blackveil looming on the horizon, there are those who would seek to take advantage of the King's distraction.
1. Estora

**AN: This is the work of two authors. Aereal and I have decided that it would be interesting and fun to see what we could do with our powers combined. We do not own the world of GR, everything belongs to Kristen Britain. All quotes belong to their respective owners, dead or alive.**

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_**"A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at the gates is less formidable, for he is known and carries his banner openly. But the traitor moves amongst those within the gate freely, his sly whispers rustling through all the alleys, heard in the very halls of government itself. For the traitor appears not a traitor; he speaks in accents familiar to his victims, and he wears their face and their arguments, he appeals to the baseness that lies deep in the hearts of all men. He rots the soul of a nation, he works secretly and unknown in the night to undermine the pillars of the city, he infects the body politic so that it can no longer resist. A murderer is less to fear. The traitor is the plague."**_

_**Marcus Tullius Cicero**_

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**Chapter 1**

Queen Estora sat in the comfortable chair at her bedside, brushing her long blond hair that hung down to her waist. Normally, it was a task for her maidservants, but she found the repetitive brush strokes soothing, so she had dismissed them for the night to enjoy her solitude in her suite of chambers.

The ornate jewellery box that Zachary had given her as a belated wedding gift lay open on the mahogany table beside her. It was beautiful, with gold and silver wrought into delicate flowers and inlaid with precious gems. She carefully laid the brush down beside it and reached for an object inside the box. It was the gold and sapphire necklace that Xandis Amberhill had given her.

The sun-like orb pendant sat innocently in her hand, seeming to somehow absorb and magnify the dim candlelight in the room. She ran her other hand over the delicate golden chain, feeling the cool links slide through her fingers.

She remembered her momentary surprise when Zachary's cousin had given her this gift, but now it felt almost a part of her. She felt a sort of completeness holding the pendant and her soul almost sang as she gazed into the depths of the gem.

It had lain hidden within her gown bodice every day for a month now, pressed against her heart as she fulfilled her role in the council and in the throne room. At night, after her maidservants had undressed her and placed the pendant away in the box, Estora would retrieve it and cradle it to her chest as she drifted off to sleep. It was here, in her dreams, that she was able to see him. His carefree grin stretched across his handsome face and his sparkling eyes shone as he reached out to her, enfolding her in his arms as he whispered endearments. In this dream, he would trace the lines of her features with reverence, staring at her pink mouth as he leaned in to capture her lips in a hungry kiss. Those strong arms would slowly lower her to the ground, his hands coming up to tangle in her hair.

She would wake from this pleasant dream with a jolt, angrily tossing her bedclothes to the side as she paced her chamber in frustration. Her longing only intensified during the day, when she dared to glance at his face during a council meeting, her breathing becoming shallower as her eyes eagerly caressed the planes of his face.

While her actions went unnoticed by the council at large, and by Zachary himself, there were hidden sets of eyes in the room that followed the Queen's gaze and frowned at the object of her interest.

Occasionally, Zachary or one of the Lord-Governors would address her, usually on matters relating to Coutre Province. Snapping out of her intense observation, she would blink and almost with a shade of irritation, ask her husband to repeat the question. The pendant would throb insistently against her ribcage, as she would strive to keep her attention on the political matters in the room. Inevitably, the meeting would adjourn, with the advisors and Lord-Governors filing out while paying their respects to their monarchs. Every time, _he_ would bow slightly over her offered hand and come up to raze his eyes appreciatively over her form, resting his gaze on her bodice and winking at her knowingly before taking his leave.

She had not dared to think about him like this to begin with; after all, she was betrothed to the King, and Xandis was his cousin. She knew where her duty lay – to her province and to the crown, and not with the mischievous cousin of the king.

But late one night, mere weeks after receiving his gift, as she held this precious object in her hand, she could almost feel it whisper in her mind. She felt invigorated, as though a sharp breeze blew through the stifling chambers and she could feel the tingle of magic, like a dancing flame that grew within her.

That night, her dream had been different_. _

_Xandis was there, as always, but he was standing on a ship, a sturdy looking vessel, with his hair blowing in a strong gale. The words _Ice _Lady were marked upon the bow. His eyes were bright and his cheeks were ruddy with excitement. He was shouting words she could not hear at someone below deck, but then he stopped and seemed to look around, sensing a presence. She tried to talk to him but he couldn't hear her, and when she moved forward and tried to place her hand on his forearm, her hand instead floated through the solid mass of flesh and bone, like water falling through a sieve. _

_Xandis brought his hands together, fingering the dragon ring that flashed crimson in the sunlight. A slow smile grew on his face, his expression almost wistful as he appeared to be remembering something from long ago. A well-built woman in Captain's clothing strode forward and offered a spyglass to him. As he lifted it eagerly to his eye, a great gust of wind rocked the vessel, and suddenly the world spun. _

_Estora found herself looking at a man dressed in sturdy travelling clothes, but they were of fine leather and cloth, that were worn with a distinct regal air. He turned and she saw it was Xandis' face. Next to him was a tall blonde woman in flowing green and blue robes. A sparkling light seemed to glow around her and flow between the two of them. Estora gave a gasp as she looked upon her own visage, whose hands were intertwined with those of Xandis. The couple gazed at each other intently, their eyes conveying a wealth of emotions, some of which Estora recognized instantly. The warmth of affection, the powerful urges of lust, and the keen regard that they had for each other visibly shone. _

She awoke from that dream, familiar warmth pooling in the pit of her stomach as she sought to control the wild beating of her heart. Her cheeks flushed when she thought of what had occurred next, and although she had averted her gaze, her mind raced with the implications of what she had seen.

She thought she heard a soft voice whisper, seemingly from her own heart, "_Seek him that seeks you also…and the power of the sea kings shall be at thy command."_

The necklace would continue to reach out to her senses for weeks on end, subtly inviting her to slip the chain over her head, to feel with renewed intent, all that which she could accomplish with the right initiative. It would whisper of power, the kind that would command respect not only in Sacoridia, but amongst its allies and enemies. It would speak gently to her heart, of her own personal desires that could be obtained. It showed her, when she gazed upon herself in her mirror, of how truly beautiful and lovely she was. And of how she could use that beauty for another purpose if she so chose.

Estora intrinsically knew she was beautiful, her golden hair almost the same shade as the hues of this golden gem. Yes, they were both radiantly exquisite, she thought to herself with pride. A faint pulse reverberated from the pendant in answer to her thoughts, sending a tingling sensation that raced through her fingertips and up her spine.

And together, they were indeed powerful.

Oh, if Zachary only knew how she now lusted after such power, how her cold thoughts lay hidden behind the vapid smile that everyone thought to be so calm and genteel. She thought of the pure pleasure she derived from sitting upon the throne and wearing the circlet of authority. Also present was a feeling of slight derision, of disbelief that she had not felt such yearnings before. She inwardly scorned her previous lack of ambition, but kept these thoughts to herself as she adhered to her regal and gentle facade. Any weak inklings of affection that she had once aspired to with her royal husband, she cast aside disdainfully with the knowledge of his indiscretions with a member of the lower classes.

A calculating look settled on her face as she reached into the jewellery box, this time drawing out from the bottom an iridescent envelope that shimmered in the candlelight. A Green Rider had delivered it to the castle only this morning, happily arriving while the King was out visiting the kennels. And so it had been entrusted to her.

Passing her fingers over the broken seal, she unfolded the paper to scan its contents once more, her face twisting into a grimace of anger and frustration. She regarded it for another moment, before standing gracefully and padding over to the fire to kneel in the plush furs that lay before the hearth. With a self satisfied smile, she rolled up the parchment and held the end into the flames, watching the fire consume the elegant script.

Throwing the rest in, she watched as the royal crest of the Eletians was engulfed, taking with it the whereabouts of a certain missing Rider.

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	2. Zachary

Estora looked up from her desk as Rory tapped on the door. He opened it and quietly announced the arrival of the Lord-Governor of Mirwell. She forced her look of disdain into a graceful smile. "My dear Lord Timas. I hope your trip was uneventful".

She lowered herself slightly more than necessary as she offered her hand for him to kiss, allowing him a good view of the dazzling pendant she wore just slightly above her ample cleavage.

"Y-y-yes your majesty," Timas seemed unable to form a proper response, his cheeks turning a vibrant red color. _Fool_, she thought. _But unfortunately a necessary one._

"Please, take a seat. I was interested to read in your recent reports to council of strengthening the forces of Clan Mirwell." Timas again seemed to struggle to speak. "But I didn't – they – there was no mention—"

Estora resisted the urge to throttle him, retorting sharply "I am well aware of what your reports didn't say," she took a deep breath and resumed her radiant beneficence "—and of course you could not tell such things to Zachary and the short-sighted idiots in his council. But I of course can read between the lines, and can see the advantage of looking to the future. We must look to our shared interests."

Timas now stammered out his agreement, his red face twisting into calculation as the cogs turned inside his head. He figured he must have done something right this time, to make such an ally come to _him_. He would make Mirwell stronger and more powerful than ever, rivalling the Hillander clan—his father would have been proud. These 'interests' the queen spoke of must be awed by the potential might of his provincial army and thus his newfound conceit loosened his tongue.

"Your majesty, which interests might these be? Do they wish to receive my protection once Mirwell ascends the throne?" She cast him a scathing glance which unfortunately was lost on him.

_What a toad. No wonder even little goody-goody Karigan picked a fight with him and won_, she thought with disgust.

She took a deep breath, feeling the throbbing build in her head. "That is of no importance right now. Let us just say that with the strength of Mirwell, a few well-placed allies at your side, and the additional forces that those other allies can bring on the eastern side of Sacoridia; you would be well placed to wrest the throne from Zachary and the Hillander line. Mirwell would be welcome to the western half of the nation and the eastern half would be split amongst the other allies as tribute."

Timas pouted ever so slightly in disappointment, for he wanted to be the King of all Sacoridia. But, he thought with a sigh, pushing his hair off his sweaty forehead, _to be King of half a country was better than being Lord-Governor of a single weakening province that was suppressed by the king._ He nodded in agreement. "Very well. And when shall these… interests… want to meet with me?"

The queen smiled a serpentine smile. "They shall be in touch soon, Timas. This has been a most helpful meeting, thank you ever so much for your assistance."

Her smile stayed in place until he bowed and shut the door behind him. The graceful expression she had worn slid from her face. Little did the simpering idiot know that Mirwell would not even exist once this war was fought, but his ignorance served her needs well for now.

Estora sank into an overstuffed armchair by the fire, stroking its velvet surface softly with her thumb. She reached the other hand up to clasp the pendant, and closed her eyes, sitting utterly still in contemplation. In her other hand she clasped a large echidna sea shell, which Xandis had given her in secret before he left. A little token, he had joked, from a poor Lord-Governor who could not rival the fine jewels and silks that had been gifted to her from the other provinces.

Only last night had she discovered that if she held the shell within her grasp, there appeared to be some sort of magical, telepathic link between herself and Xandis with his ring. A link where she keenly felt the strong emotions rolling from his consciousness. She wondered belatedly if he had known about this, or if the subtle magic of the objects were directing him to act in this manner. Her initial reaction of joy and giddy relief quickly turned sombre as they were able to communicate images and feelings across the connection. He had managed to access some of the secrets and power of the Sea Kings, it seemed, since he left, and therefore the weyrs, or groups, of dragons that the Sea Kings once commanded. He had sent to her the image of Lord Timas, and of their potential allies.

Yes, they would gather allies in abundance, for there were many who would be glad to see Sacoridia's fall from grace and power. In a moment of regret, she recalled the letter that she burnt two nights ago out of pure spite, that may have come in handy with these quickly resolved plans.

Estora scoffed with ill concealed disdain. So . . . Karigan had been found, and by the Eletians no less. Her pretty face was marred with a scowl at the thought of the enigmatic immortals. They would be harder to coerce into an alliance. Better to separate them from Zachary and Sacoridia, and leave them unwilling to join in the battle that would be coming upon them.

The letter from Eletia mentioned Karigan was recovering in their healing houses, and that she would return at the start of the next spring. If Zachary sent word by then that he wanted an alliance, the Eletians would draft the necessary diplomatic papers and send them with her to seal an agreement. If not—they would likely return to their reclusive ways for perhaps many more mortal life-spans, for Karigan was truly the only mortal they saw fit to parley with. But if Zachery were to send word of the opposite, that he wanted no more to do with the Eletians after the doomed Blackveil expedition . . .

She turned to stare out of the window at the gathering dusk, as she turned this idea over in her mind. First she would need to know more about the previous alliances between the Sacoridians and Eletia. A quick visit the archives, perhaps, was in order before she could proceed further.

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Zachary strode towards one of the smaller dining chambers, his stomach rumbling in protest of the late hour. They had agreed upon a delayed dinner the day prior, as he would be preoccupied throughout much of the day, but knowing it would be later didn't stop him from still feeling the pangs of hunger during some of the more tedious meetings. He smiled wryly to himself and glanced to his right, quickly concealing his reaction as, approaching from an intersecting corridor, was his Queen. Completely alone and without her usual Weapons or her ladies in tow. He slowed his gait to wait for her and bit back his automatic reproach, wondering simultaneously why she should be coming from that direction, from the corridor leading to the archives rooms.

Zachary had thought she said she was having afternoon tea with her sister, who was visiting for the week from Coutre Province, and expressed this to her, with an inquiring quirk of the eyebrows. She smiled gracefully in response and answered smoothly that her sister had stayed in her room, having been unwell, and so she had taken the opportunity to look up some old family records in the archives.

He raised his eyebrows once more as Estora quickly moved on to question him on his afternoon engagements, for she was normally far more interested in her own affairs and various social events.

"My dear, how did the meeting go with the search party? I hope they were not too fatigued from their return from D'Yer,' she said with a trace of concern in her serene features. 'Was there any news of—of the Blackveil expedition, the missing Eletians, and of the missing Riders?

Zachary shook his head slowly in response, his brow furrowed, but she pressed on, 'Have there been any sign of them? And do you think they manage to meet up with the Eletians?"

She almost cursed as she quickly bit her tongue. The shock of seeing him so suddenly had made her a tad nervous. She composed herself as she listened vaguely to his negative replies, and then smiled at him sadly as they went into the dining room. 'Tis a horrible affair to have our friends missing . . .'

The king gave her a half-smile in response, and he went on to elaborate on some other idea they had about extending the kennels. _Good_, she thought smugly. _He hadn't noticed a thing… the fool wouldn't see a plot if it danced in front of his face_.

Zachary fell silent as they finished their meal. He had purposely talked nonsense during most of dinner, not really caring what response his comments elicited. He had thought he perceived a vague look of satisfaction on Estora's usually vapid features.

He kissed her hand as they finally got to their chambers—never had he spent a more interminable evening in her company—and said good night. Estora's weapons followed her off to her own rooms, and he went inside his own, closing the heavy door and leaning against it to listen. Once the footsteps had died away, he opened it again once more and motioned for Fastion to enter.

Zachary hesitated as he sought to articulate his thoughts, with Fastion waiting patiently. 'Fastion, I had not thought I would have to ask this of you, but have you noticed anything amiss with the Queen's behavior?

Fastion considered the question carefully, 'I believe I have Sire, I didn't want to mention anything just yet, but perhaps we can investigate a little to find out the reason for this change? It may turn out to be merely a whim or an emotional… er, phase. I understand that ladies can have a fluctuation in their emotions when a certain event is expected,' he finished awkwardly.

Fastion fell silent and Zachary was slightly amused to find a topic that discomfited the stoic Weapon. "Hmm, perhaps you may be right. And yet—something feels awry. If it comes to nothing then I will happily dismiss it, but after the coup with Amilton, and then the conspiracies surrounding our marriage… I'd be more at ease knowing that my wife is nothing more than what she has always presented herself as, and not part of some greater scheme.'

Fastion nodded in acknowledgement, for Zachary certainly had had his fair share of plots and intrigues. Suddenly Fastion's eyes widened, the beginnings of a solution forming in his head. 'Sire, I believe Beryl Spencer has just returned from her travels, perhaps…?'

Zachary allowed a bit of his relief to show in response to the suggestion. Yes, the green rider's talents would be of great assistance. 'Excellent. Have her sent to me first thing in the morning.'

Fastion bowed his head, leaving his liege in deep contemplation as he quietly shut the door behind him. Zachary released the pent up breath he had been holding, allowing his shoulders to sag forth as he reached up to rub at his face tiredly. The brocade coat and silver circlet were quickly discarded as he sunk into a wing-backed armchair before the fire. One of his terriers had been waiting for him patiently before the blaze, and thumped his tail in greeting. His hand drifted down to scratch between the pup between her ears, but his mind was somewhere else as he stared vacantly ahead.

Despite the war of voices within him that vied for attention, there was one amongst them all that prevailed in his consciousness. It told him, it assured him, that it was as he had feared and that there were again those who wished to wretch control of the throne from the Hillander line. A woman he had once respected as a paragon of nobility was now virtually unrecognizable to him.

He had known deep down, that despite her good character and impeccable breeding, she was not a suitable wife for him or a proper Queen for Sacoridia. Her actions over the past few weeks only confirmed his inner beliefs, but instead of feeling angry, he only felt regret. Karigan was likely lost to him forever, and he dealt his council a hard blow by dismissing so many voices that had once served him faithfully. If he could not trust his Queen, then who was left to him, besides his loyal Weapons?

Estora's actions, although meticulously planned in her mind, did not take into account the numerous passages and spy-holes that ran through the royal apartments. Originally built in times of civil upheaval, they had not been truly used until Amilton's betrayal, only utilized for their stealth and anonymity by the Weapons during Zachary's reign. Zachary had ordered them re-opened, but only tasked out a few of the Weapons to patrol the routes, lest he fall into the paranoia of his predecessors. It was only by chance that one young Weapon heard Estora's conversation with Lord Mirwell, and promptly reported it. Zachary had kept the conversation to himself, letting her words sink in as he mused over her actions prior to that point. It was difficult to concentrate on his usual business for the rest of the day, but he had a small measure of desperate hope that the conversation had somehow been misconstrued.

Their shared meal proved that those hopes had been in utter vain.

Her vapid smiles and insincere wishes for the safety of the Blackveil expedition grated at his nerves as he sought to chew and swallow his food quickly. The leisurely conversation he enacted afterwards did not do much to quell the fury that built whenever he glanced into her eyes, and saw the triumph in those blue depths. Triumph over the now supposed dead Rider that had been a rival for the King's affections.

Zachary hissed and struck out in anger, knocking over a goblet on the table next to him and startling the terrier, who looked at him reproachfully for disturbing his rest. The king reached out to draw the dog back down, petting his head in a conciliatory gesture as he recalled his parting words with Fastion.

Beryl Spencer had already given much of herself in service to her king and country. And even with her experiences, her brooch had not released her. Now, he wondered if it was not a coincidence that he would need her expertise to carry out the precarious plan he had in mind for his Queen. The lord-governors would never take his word that one of their own women was behind a nefarious plot. No, it would take more than that. It would take unyielding evidence and an exposure of her true motives.

And for that, Beryl Spencer, Green Rider of Sacoridia, would have to become a lady-in-waiting.

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**Reviewers across the Green Rider world . . . you've fallen off the radar. Feedback drives the muse; good or bad. Between Aereal and myself, we dragged chapter 2 out for several weeks.**


	3. Karigan

Karigan awoke with a jolt and sat up abruptly, gasping for breath as if she had been running. The bright golden light streaming through the window pushed away the darkness of the dreams through which she had indeed been running. Every night the terrors of Blackveil came back to haunt her, but this particular dream recurred the most often.

_She was being chased through the dark, rotting forest by Eletian sleepers. Swarms of vicious bloodsucking birds whirred around her but were left behind as she sprinted along the path, ducking the dripping branches that loomed overhead. The sound of a familiar voice whispering her name made her stumble to a halt and turn around; even though her semi-conscious self knew with a strange dread what would happen next, she was powerless in his presence. King Zachary stood there, his hand held out towards her, his almond eyes beseeching. _

_"Karigan. . ."_

_The whisper caressed her gently and she stood still, mesmerised by the timbre of his voice. Suddenly, with a horrific screech a black form launched from the top of the trees, beating enormous black wings and came to land beside the king. She blinked once and it was Estora standing there, but she had glowing red eyes and long pointed teeth. This demonic-Estora cackled wildly and grabbed Zachary by the arm. The ground beneath the two cracked and the solid earth fell away into a deep abyss. Karigan cried out in dismay and ran forward but more of the ground crumbled as she got precariously close and she had to pull back. She could only watch in horror as the man she loved fell, down, down, into the blackness. Suddenly black beasts, eerily akin to gigantic rabid dogs arose from the chasm and she began to run away once more, with tears pouring down her face…_

Karigan wiped her still-wet cheeks with the back of one hand, clutching the soft bed coverings to her chest with the other. In truth, the Eletians had been very good to her. The menders had tended to her broken wrist, the deep wounds on her thigh, and the many scrapes and bruises that covered her. Lhean had half-carried her through the forest where they had thankfully landed together after the bizarre fall through space and time, after the breaking of the mirror mask. He did his best to soothe her with reassurances that this was not Blackveil, and they were actually quite close to Eletia. How he had ascertained this she had no idea, as the trees around them were so dense that there was no possible glimpse of the horizon or any features of the landscape.

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As the sun began to set they had been found by a trio of Eletian _tiendan_, scouting through the forest, their milky armour identical to Lhean's although not marred with blood and grime. Lhean had spoken to them softly for what seemed a long time, with the _tiendan_ casting suspicious looks in her direction as she sat shivering against the base of a tree. Her eyes threatened to close but the tremors that racked her body made sleep impossible. Her mind seemed utterly frozen, and Yates' face kept flickering in her vision, although she couldn't remember why as she attempted to sort through the dense haze of memories. She blinked it away. Eventually the leader of these _tiendan_ seemed to relent and they escorted them towards Eletia. The last thing Karigan remembered was being carried by one of them, dimly marveling at the strange smoothness of the armour, before darkness once again enfolded her in its embrace.

When she awoke she was lying on something very soft, very warm and comfortable. She felt strange for a moment before realizing that the familiar aches she had grown used to on the expedition had now gone, except for a stabbing pain in her thigh. When she tried to sit up, she cried out, looking in consternation at her wrist, which throbbed with intensity. It was firmly bandaged with a green gauze fabric, and she could see part of another bandage on her thigh below the white shift that she now wore. A careful perusal of her person revealed two more bandages on her ribs and on one ankle.

As she took in her surroundings with more than a little bit of unease, she glanced about her in growing trepidation. Green boughs swayed at the edges of a clearing and she choked down her fear, even though some part of her mind attempted to logically tell her that there was no danger. "No more… trees…" she managed to utter, before falling into an exhausted sleep once more.

The next time she awoke, to her relief, she appeared to be in a room with four enclosed walls, although two moderately sized windows still looked out upon green in the distance. She clenched her eyes shut and turned her face from the unpleasant sight.

An Eletian woman stood by the door watching her intently. Her beautiful green-blue eyes appeared large on her oval face, and the fall of silky platinum hair over her shoulder invoked memories of another.

_Grae_.

Her eyes filled with tears and for some time she couldn't bring herself to speak. The Eletian woman left and came back with some steaming soup, gently informing Karigan that her name was Lhari.

"I am the sister of Lhean," she said, conveying her understanding at the question in Karigan's eyes. In Karigan's exhausted state she had hardly spoken to Lhean during their journey to Eletia, but during the days that followed she told parts of her tale to Lhari, who listened intently and occasionally with a look of awe, something Karigan had never seen on an Eletian. After a week Lhean came to visit, having recovered substantially from his wounds. They exchanged their versions of the events that had unfolded, although Lhari seemed to have told her brother some of what Karigan had already said, he was able to fill Karigan in on that which had occurred in her absence.

The day after that was the day Karigan was finally able to sit up, and she had a surprise visit. There was a knock on the door and one of the _tiendan_ appeared, succeeded promptly by Prince Jametari, who glided into the room noiselessly. He fixed Karigan with his enigmatic gaze and when he spoke, she then belatedly remembered how musical his voice was.

"Young one, you are truly Laurelyn-touched to have come so far. Wrong I was to doubt your actions, and mistaken to think your second visit to Eletia would be your last,' his lilting voice said with a touch of amusement. "Ever changing are the threads of the future, but your bravery has changed the tapestry of time. Many paths now lead to the defeat of Mornhavon the Black. The Eletians are in your debt for the salvation of our people and the promise of the restoration of Argenthyne."

Karigan could say nothing in response, but only tightened her arms around her knees as she recalled with a shudder, the sleepers that she was unable to lead back to their home. He tilted his head ever so slightly at her discomfort, but continued on in a soft voice. "Although my father had once foretold that one who was both Laurelyn-touched and marked with the brush of death would visit our fair land, I allowed my opinion to be swayed by those who were unsettled by the wild magic that once resided within you. Rest now, Galad'heon, daughter of the light.

The Eletian prince smiled gently and bowed, gliding silently from the room with the others in tow, leaving Karigan to ponder his words.

A couple of days later, two more arrivals to the Eletian forest brought much excitement to its inhabitants, and mixed feelings for Karigan.

Telagioth and Ealdaen had arrived back, having travelled ceaselessly from the Wanda plains. They were engaged in a deep discussion with the prince, Lhari said had informed Karigan with a solemn countenance. Lhari had not elaborated much further, only bits and pieces about a potential rupture in the wall of the world. Karigan shook her head slightly in confusion for it hurt merely attempting to muddle through her thoughts.

At the same time an Eletian scout had returned with a missive from King Zachary, having encountered one of his Green Riders on the road. Karigan wondered who, but raised an eyebrow at the continued coolness of the Eletian's response to her kind.

Except herself, it had seemed. From what she could gather from Lhari on this front, the message had contained first a general salutation from the King and his new Queen Estora. Karigan found her eyes tearing in response to this news and bit her lip in annoyance. She had known as she left for Blackveil that the wedding would eventually happen, and she tried to push her emotions aside.

Secondly, Lhari had stated that High King Zachary requested an alliance once more between his people and the Eletians. It had been shown by the Blackveil expedition that such an alliance could be highly successful, although regrettably the expedition had caused some losses on both sides. The king gave his condolences to the Eletian prince for the loss of his sister and other members of the party.

Lhari confided to Karigan that the prince had initially wanted to dismiss the request, for after all, the Eletians had survived long enough without any alliances, and the threat of Mornhavon was much diminished at the present time.

But this day, in seclusion, he had sat long in a trance, and finally awoken to declare his intent—he would agree to an alliance on the condition that Karigan Galad'heon would be the ambassador between the two peoples. He would put this to the council in eight days time, upon the new moon.

Karigan was nearly recovered by this time and had ventured outside a few times, able to enjoy the sweet smells of the forest again, and the distant hum of bees gathering amongst the blooming blossoms without being plagued by dreadful memories. The sunshine was warmer and the days getting longer.

Lhari said it would soon be summer, and then Karigan would be well enough to return home. Home, not to Corsa as she once would have meant by that word, but home to Sacor City, Captain Mapstone, and her fellow Green Riders.

_And the king_, she couldn't stop her mind from adding, despite the tightness in her chest when she recalled his face.

Ealdaen came to visit Karigan again, looking quite different to her now that he was free of his armour, and dressed simply in clean garments. He brought a message from the prince, that the council had agreed with the proposal and a letter had been sent off to the castle at Sacor City. However the letter had a further condition—that if the king did not respond by the time Karigan left, the beginning of spring, the offer would be rescinded. Somewhere in the back of Karigan's mind, a small voice whispered that perhaps the king would not reply, if only so that he didn't have to see her again.

But go back she must, regardless of the outcome between herself and her liege.


	4. Xandis

Lord Xandis Amberhill braced himself against the railing on the upper deck of the frigate,_ Ice Lady_; his slightly glowing eyes scanning the relatively calm seas while his fingers tapped a rhythmic pattern against the aged cedar.

It had been several days since they had made contact with another vessel; a merchant sloop that had managed to flee into an approaching storm before Amberhill was able to engage. The_ Ice Lady_ barely managed to survive the gale herself, and it was only by the extraordinary skill of his First Mate Marisa Tinley along with his sail master Drey J'Kladed, that they skirted the edge of the harsh winds and driving rain.

It was likely, given the projected path of that merchant; that they did not survive for the _Ice Lady_ had been sailing past several clusters of debris floating in the water. Strangely enough, there had been no bodies in the wreckage.

Amberhill had been in the southern seas long enough to know that the creatures that sometimes feasted on the flesh of man had not yet migrated down from the north. Nor was it the norm for the bodies to sink in saltwater, he had found a few weeks prior when he saw fit to relieve his steward of his duties.

Tinley had informed him of the agitated state of the crew, notably the old men who looked about the blue-green seas uneasily while casting furtive glances at the ornate ruby that resided on his hand.

There were many legends and myths that surrounding these waters, but none so prominent as that of the Sea Kings. They were known to roam the oceans and all the lands owed them allegiance. For their emblem and banner, they had chosen the dragon and it is believed that such creatures once inhabited the earth and filled the skies with their wings, but only the Sea Kings were able to dominate or destroy them.

Amberhill flexed his hand, allowing the dappled sunlight to strike the center of the ruby. He smirked when the helmsman next to him shifted a few steps to the side, his shoulders tense as he kept his hands steady and eyes forward. This crew had served him rather well in the past six months, and his second-in-command shared a penchant for enforcing his special brand of discipline. They were a rather motley sort, naturally superstitious, and all of them loyal to the ship, and the ship alone. To a leader, they naturally flocked regardless of his politics or inclinations.

He curled his lip in slight disgust when a young boy scrubbing the deck vigorously splashed tepid water onto his breeches. The boy dropped his brush and scrambled backward, stuttering his apology but he was grasped by the cuff of his shirt and tossed down the deck stairs to Tinley. She held the boy aloft and regarded her captain expectantly.

Amberhill regarded the pair coolly, 'The lad spilled water onboard my ship. A frightful waste for any aspiring sailor.'

Drey came forward from the hold and held up a hand in supplication, 'Sir, surely such a punishment is too harsh for a cabin boy?'

Amberhill's eyes simmered at him, the irises speckled with flecks of molten flame. Drey closed his mouth abruptly and dropped his hand, letting it hand helplessly at his side while he gazed at the boy with an indefinable expression. Amberhill gave Tinley a curt nod, turning his attention back to the undulating waves while the sobbing boy was dragged down into the hold to await his punishment.

The breeze gently blew the strands of loose black hair away from Amberhill's face as he stared into the water. The mystery of the lost ship was hardly a new one, for such disappearances occurred with regularity; their circumstances almost identical. The loss of the potential cargo grated on his nerves, and the crew keenly felt his displeasure when he was deprived of his quarry.

He rubbed his thumb over the ruby absentmindedly, feeling the anger and resentment of his current predicament wash over him. Almost mockingly, he turned his gaze north and sneered in the direction of his homeland. It was here that he laid his blame and bitterness, on the doorstep of Sacor City and its king.

Such a king was unfit for the throne of Sacoridia and undeserving of the Hillander name, he mused sullenly. It also seemed that the soft king was unable to perform his duties as a husband and as a man. The neighboring nations were certainly taking note of Sacoridia now, of her apparent weaknesses and that of the threat from Blackveil.

Xandis snarled and slammed his fist on top of the railing, startling the helmsman yet again. The weakling on the throne was all but encouraging the others to exploit Sacoridia and her resources. Now was not the time for diplomacy but for action.

Without a child, the king had no heir and no security for the crown of Sacoridia. If the king were to . . . be rendered incapacitated . . . Xandis grinned, baring his teeth in a feral manner. If the king were unable to perform his duties as monarch, Xandis had been made aware by his foolish cousin that he would ascend the throne.

Xandis glared into the scattering thunderhead clouds, crossing his arms over his chest. It was clear to all but the most obtuse that the king was not fulfilling the expectations of his rank and class. And naturally, as he was unable to sire an heir on the golden haired beauty, that most pleasant task would fall to Xandis.

A slight shuffling alerted Xandis to the presence of Tinley, who offered him the spyglass with a look of anticipation. 'Sail to the north, captain. Based on her course, I'd say she was making a run for Corsa.'

Xandis raised the glass to his eye and obligingly looked out over the stern of the ship to the small vessel attempting to tip toe past the intimidating frigate. He lowered the glass and closed it swiftly in his hands. He offered it back to his first mate with a sadistic gleam in his eye, 'Very good Tinley, bring her about and beat to quarters.'

She ducked her head in deference, 'Aye sir,' and turned to leave but he called out to her again, 'Oh and Tinley?'

Tinley turned and held his gaze uncertainly, but he smiled reassuringly, 'Do make sure the crew understands that no prisoners shall be taken today?'

She blinked once but nodded again and left the upper deck to begin shouting orders. Their course swiftly altered and additional sail let out to gain on their prey, the_ Ice Lady_ surged forward, a ferocious blood lust shining in the eyes of her captain.

Beneath the waves, however, a different sort of predator quietly watched the fragile vessel speed towards the other. Seemingly unaware of his vulnerability and the dangerous game he played.


	5. Lily and Beryl

Aereal and I will not apologize for lateness but will own to real life catching up to us. But we WILL finish ALL of our stories. Because no one likes unfinished fics!

* * *

Jena quietly assisted the queen into her assemble, eyes downcast as she slips numerous rings onto Estora's pale, soft hand. The queen preened happily in front of the ornate vanity as she sat down expectantly and tossed her golden mane over her shoulder. The slightly trembling maid moved to pick up one of the ivory handled brushes and began to slowly drag it through the queen's locks. A slight snarl caused the brush to snag in the strands and prompted the queen to hiss. Quickly, Beryl moved to apologize but Estora's hand was already descending on the maid's open cheek.

'Little idiot,' the queen shrieked, watching in satisfaction as the maid cowed against the baseboard of the ornate bed. Scoffing at the girl's spineless attitude, she sat back down huffily. 'Finish what you were doing and be quick about it.'

Red-faced, Jena finished the queen's coiffure and backed away, her shoulders hunched in submission. Estora stood and draped a light silk shawl over her shoulders, peering into her full length mirror as she subtly adjusted her bodice for maximum display. The maid glanced up warily from her post as Estora radiated pleasure at her own pleasing countenance. A tiny glimmer surfaced in Jena's eyes as they narrowed in close scrutiny. The spark faded quickly and her gaze was once more cast down when Estora turned to float to a nearby wardrobe.

With a practiced show of searching for another shawl in the seemingly endless foray of fabrics and colors, she allowed the silk wrap gracing her shoulders to slide to the ground. 'You did not choose a pleasing shade for my gown, girl. Pick that one up and have it laundered.'

Jena scurried forward to do her queen's bidding, gathering up the gossamer fabric slowly. The queen drew out a pale blue shawl, in contrast to her midnight gown, and tossed it over her arm as she swept from the room. 'Tidy the room up, and leave.'

The maid bobbed a deep curtsey as Estora vacated the room, not rising until she heard the door being closed quietly by a Weapon. Straightening, the maid carefully folded the wrap in her hands and placed it on the end of the bed.

Jena turned to the wardrobe, her head cocked slightly to the side as she approached its slightly open door without reservation. The shelving nooks built into the large oak wardrobe were designed to allow for smaller garments to be folded and stacked neatly in their little alcoves. She directed her attention to the topmost shelf, eyeing the pile of pretty scarves and stoles shrewdly. With a practiced agility, she lifted one foot into the high floor of the wardrobe and grasped the top of the heavy door with one hand to hoist herself at eye level with the shelf.

Her footing secured, she used her free hand to carefully glide her fingers through the soft fabrics. Without disturbing their neat piles, she reached near the bottom, her fingers grasping a corner of vellum. She gingerly dragged it out, noting that there was a heavy object in the envelope, and inspected the front, noting the worn edges and broken seal.

Chattering voices in the hallway broke her concentration, prompting her to tuck the small package into her bodice and quickly climb down. With both wardrobe doors closed, she turned to greet the pair of young maids who gave her small smiles of greeting as they moved to strip the bed of its linens. While they worked, Jena quietly cleaned up the queen's vanity and gathered clothing items that would go downstairs to the laundry. As she moved out the chamber door, she bobbed her head towards the Weapon at his post, and quietly passed through a small non-descript door that marked the entrance to the servant passageways.

She had almost made it to the ground level when she heard the familiar pitter patter of paws scrambling on the stone floors. A smile crept to her lips when she saw a tuft of white fur sprint across the corridor in front of her and disappear around a corner. With a quick glance around her surroundings, she gave a low whistle and waited patiently for the infamous little Lily to make her appearance.

* * *

A curious-eyed creature poked her small nose back around the corner and tilted her head questioningly at the human in her midst. The human sank down to her knees and beckoned to Lily with an open hand, using her cajoling voice to tempt the small terrier to obey.

Lily was not impressed.

Unless suitable payment was offered, and cheese was an acceptable medium, she would not perform asinine tricks for this one's amusement. Besides, Lily could smell mischief on this human. And not the good sort.

This was the kind in which inevitably, Lily would take the blame for whatever trouble occurred. Oh, yes, the twinkle in the human's eyes spoke of all sorts of trouble. But then again, trouble was what Lily lived for . . . .

* * *

Jena grinned as the little terrier trotted up to her and tentatively sniffed the proffered hand. She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a small morsel of cheese that she had saved from her supper, offering it to suddenly alert canine.

Lily took the offering delicately and gave a polite tail wag in return, as if thanking the maid for her thoughtfulness. Jena then reached into her bodice and retrieved the small envelope, regarding Lily with a touch of amusement. 'I wonder if you could take something to your master for me . . .'

Lily's nostrils picked up a most interesting scent as she placed her front paws on Jena's arm, her little nose questing closer to the open envelope.

* * *

Estora sat rather primly on her throne while her husband continued his conversation with Lord Something-Or-Other. It really was a tedious business listening to the needs and demands of others. The man had the audacity to ask for funds to replace bridges that were washed away in the spring flooding. As if such things were the responsibility of the crown and not of the province itself!

It was a wonder that the royal coffers were not drained dry, for all the _generosity _that her king bestowed upon numerous ungrateful subjects. Estora scoffed internally at the presumption of the line of supplicants that wound out the door.

More worthless individuals who thought they had the right to ask of the monarchy.

Someone's bridge was gone, another's crop destroyed, and livestock had been stolen. Naturally, their solution was to go to the king and demand recompense for their losses. And the idiot did not have the good sense to toss them back outside.

Estora's nostrils flared ever so slightly at the indignity of occupying the same room as the common folk that filtered through the open doors. Did they not understand the great honor it was to even pass over the castle grounds?

She cast her gaze out of the cut-glass window serenely. It did not matter anymore. Such things would change in the future but in the meantime, such acts of _benevolence_, seemed to placate the king and draw his mind from other matters.

A voice drew her out of her musings, Zachary's baritone laced with concern as he sought to meet her gaze. She abruptly turned back to the king, her features drawing into a frown as she began to decipher his question, '. . . right, my dear?'

Estora blinked prettily, 'I am truly sorry, my liege. I find myself fatigued. What was the question?'

Zachary regarded her carefully, 'I had asked if you remember Lord L'Petrie but when I received no response, I inquired after your well-being.'

She gave a silvery laugh, 'But of course I remember him, he was present for our nuptials was he not?'

The king nodded slowly, 'And as of a few minutes ago, he was attempting to have a conversation with us both.'

Estora tilted her head slightly and gave a measured shy smile, 'You must forgive me, my lord. I find myself very fatigued these days and fear I will have many more moments to come.'

Zachary smiled softly but his eyes narrowed ever so faintly, 'Indeed? Perhaps it is something we can discuss later this evening?'

She pouted prettily, 'Do you not wish to make an announcement?'

He reached out to grasp her hand, 'Of course my love, but I wish to celebrate with you privately first.'

Estora withheld the grimace that threatened to erupt at what she perceived as a threat to visit her chambers. Zachary must have noticed her expression for he coolly remarked, 'I am sure your mother and sisters would like to dine with us this evening. Should we not inform our family first?'

She nodded in acquiescence, 'Of course, my liege. Whatever you think is appropriate.'

Zachary released her hand with a kiss to her exposed knuckles. She fought every instinct to recoil and allowed the caress, offering a stinted smile in return.

The king had turned his attention back to the individual in front of him, but they were destined for another interruption as the small excited yips of a Highland terrier resounded in the chamber. The whirling dervish of fur dashed between countless legs and full skirts, her prize secured firmly in her little jaws.

Zachary suppressed a chuckle and gave a short whistle, prompting Lily to stop abruptly in her victory circuit of the room, and tear across the floor madly to her master. More than one onlooker smiled at the normalcy of their monarch owning a dog, watching master and terrier initiate a tug-of-war with the slobber covered object in Lily's mouth.

Finally wrenching the soaked paper bundle free, Zachary patted Lily's head absentmindedly as he brought the bundle up for perusal. His mind registered that he knew the handwriting as he delicately unfolded the paper and caught the ornate pendant that fell into his open palm.

Next to him, Estora made a strangled noise of alarm as she beheld her precious possession in the king's grasp. Gathering her composure, she leaned forward eagerly, 'I see that your little . . . darling managed to get into my things, dear heart. Might I have that back?'

The king wrapped the chain around his fingers and held up the soggy remains of a letter in his other hand. 'And is this also yours, madam?'

Estora froze and offered him a sweet smile, 'I know not, sire. I only recognize the pendant.'

Zachary's eyebrow arched, 'Strange. As the letter is addressed to you, and it has been opened before, I would think you would know of its existence.'

Their conversation had drawn more than one curious individual, and the chamber seemed to quiet as all eyes turned to their tense monarchs. Quietly, Fastion gestured to one of the younger Weapons, watching solemnly as the young woman slipped away. He turned his gaze to his king's and gave a quick nod.

Zachary cleared his throat and held the letter up to the light. 'It seems, my Queen, that you have a fondness for my dear cousin that I was not aware of. Nor was I aware of the esteem he held for you.' The king held the pendant up to the light and shrugged as he turned back to the letter. 'It seems he holds a special place for you in his heart,' here the king squinted at the letter and then made a noise of contemplation, 'And he promises a place beside him, on the throne of the newly restructured Sacoridia.'

Several audible gasps were heard in the room as the impact of the words sunk into the assembly. Estora fought for the serenity of her composure to stay in place as her eyes frantically scanned the room, searching for a plausible excuse for the thinly veiled implication. The crowd parted to reveal the young Weapon who had returned with a tow-headed servant boy. The boy shyly came up to the king and offered a deep bow at the gentle prompting of the Weapon.

Zachary offered a reassuring smile, 'Hello lad. Is there something you wish to give me?'

The boy nodded solemnly and drew from his tunic, a small ivory envelope that bore the distinct flowing script of the Queen. Zachary thanked him and watched with a small measure of amusement as the boy proudly strutted from the room.

Estora was now shrinking back into her chair, trembling as she began to mutter under her breath. Zachary paid her no mind and efficiently opened the letter as he remarked, 'I had been waiting for this day, my dear, but I had no idea that the pendant had deteriorated your mind to such a point. It was rather sloppy to personally send a message in broad daylight, on castle grounds.'

At the end of her sanity and patience, an unholy snarl erupted from Estora's lips as she shakily rose up and pinned an enraged glare on the king. 'You think I care what you do to me? I consider it a blessing that I will no longer have to live under the pretense of being your loving wife.'

Zachary looked unperturbed as he read the contents of the letter. 'I'd hardy call your affections "loving" my dear. How interesting that Mirwell continues to get themselves in these messes . . .'

'You believe that your crown is secure? Even now, your undoing is on his way to Sacor City. Ready to show this nation what a true king resembles,' she spat.

'Was my undoing perchance coming by ship?' Zachary asked idly as he folded the letter and handed it to Brienne.

Estora blinked and straightened, trying to regain her confidence, 'I do not think he would reveal himself so soon, for he has been amassing his forces for some time,' she sniffed disdainfully.

Zachary folded his hands and leaned back into his chair, crossing his legs nonchalantly. 'Oh, I am rather sure it was him. My unusual allies were kind enough to send what remained of his personal effects. Including this.' He held up a very familiar ring that glowed in the light. 'But I will be sure to see the pendant and ring back into their capable hands.'

Estora screamed and threw herself forward at the king, but her own Weapons grasped both arms and restrained her writhing form. 'What did you do to him?!'

The king looked unperturbed. 'I did not do a thing. I have been aware of your proclivities for some time but this . . . incident occurred without my knowledge. Perhaps my luck has turned and my problems are starting to take care of themselves.'

Estora's locks fell from their carefully arrangement into her mottled face. 'You'll never have security in your lifetime,' she hissed, 'There will be always be those who seek to usurp such an unworthy king.'

Zachary shrugged and stood, 'Perhaps, but I will sleep much better at night knowing they are not in a nearby room.'

There were several snickers in the room at this admission, but all expressions were schooled into seriousness as many knew they were witnessing history unfold. No one knew what the Queen's fate would be, but it was quite certain that she would no longer reside in Sacor City.

It seemed, though, that the queen was not finished with her expressing her vitriol.

'If it wasn't for that mangy mutt, you would never have found enough evidence to piece together,' she sneered.

It was here that Fastion stepped forward and bowed his head ironically, 'On the contrary, my lady, Lily and her associate only facilitated a more public denouncement of your guilt.'

Estora's bloodshot eyes narrowed, 'Her associate?'

Zachary nodded, 'A trusted Rider at my disposal. Beryl?'

On cue, the young woman once called Jena stepped from the crowd in her maid's attire and gave a brief curtsey towards the queen's direction with a satirical little smile.

The queen grinned manically, 'While we are here, shall these assembled persons know of your fascination with your Riders?'

Zachary's slight smile faded from his face. 'I no longer have anything to hide.'

Estora cackled, 'Ah, now that the little whore is dead?'

Several Weapons visibly strained as they heard the slur cast against their sister. Their patience and fortitude was tried even further as the queen began to laugh. 'Shall I tell them of your tendre for a certain low-born Rider?'

The crowd shifted uncomfortably as they regarded their king's pale visage, but Zachary did not move as he absorbed her barbed words.

'Now that her carcass rots in Blackveil, I suppose it is safe to announce your unrequited love for such an unnatural woman,' she remarked merrily. The king now had begun to tremble ever so slightly, but the behavior was only observed by the close knit circle of Weapons that had begun to edge forward in silent support.

After taking a deep breath, the king regarded Estora and the court solemnly, 'It is true that I harbored a deep affection for a certain young woman, but her life was given in service to this country. Such a concept would be lost on a creature like you.'

Estora ignored the jibe and tilted her head in mock sympathy, 'How unfortunate that her service and her devotion to her duty did not allow her to return your deep affection. Not that it would have made a difference. A common-born Rider like Karigan G'ladheon would have never permitted to wear a crown-'

Zachary's voice cut into her tirade sharply, his anger glittering in his amber eyes. 'Don't. You presume much if you think that her contributions and her steadfastness of character would not have endeared her to the people.'

A murmuring of agreement arose from the court, prompting Estora to try again.

'Have you deluded yourself into thinking that the lord-governors would have accepted her?'

'I certainly would have. And now it seems to all that a woman of Karigan's character would have been imminently preferable to the harridan that now wears the crown, regardless of her bloodline.' Lord L'Petrie's voice remarked dryly as he shifted into her line of view.

Several of Zachary's newly appointed council rose from their line of seats that adorned the wall. 'I believe that Lord L'Petrie has the right of it,' sniffed a Lord-Governor from Penburn.

Estora smiled condescendingly, 'All this talk is hypothetical of course. The girl is dead. And unless you are willing to marry again, your line dies with you.'

Zachary gave her a false look of shock, 'Then you are not in a delicate condition?'

She narrowed her eyes, 'I was drugged for the night of our consummation.'

The king looked sorrowful for a moment, 'I am truly sorry, Estora, that you were forced into such a marriage. I wish you had spoken for yourself when it had counted.'

'I don't want your pity,' she declared hotly.

'But it is pity and forgiveness I offer you,' Zachary said. 'With the permission of the council of course?'

The members in question nodded hesitantly in response but the same Lord-Governor from Penburn spoke abruptly, 'Surely you do not wish to remain married to her, my liege?'

Zachary looked a bit appalled, 'Gods no, I wish for the marriage to be dissolved but I have the perfect little fishing community in the southern islands. One that has several sea dragon nesting grounds between me and her.'

Fastion clicked his heels together smartly, 'Sire, I would be honored to be tasked with this.'

Zachary leaned forward and whispered, 'I wouldn't want her to be _thrown _to the dragons, Fastion.'

Fastion kept his face passive as he quietly responded, 'I will attempt to curb my desire to do so, sire.'

The king straightened, 'Very well, take a contigent and a few from Lady Estora's household to accompany her.'

He then turned to the red-faced lady in question, 'I hear that several of those fishermen are without wives, I would brush up on your domestic skills, my lady.'

Estora hurled insult after insult after she was forcibly removed from the throne room, not registering the quiet figure who had remained near the wide doors with their small escort, seemingly forgotten in the melee.


	6. Zachary and Lily

Last one!

* * *

Zachary struggled not to collapse heavily back into his chair as he lowered himself with as much dignity as he could muster. Giving a sideways glance at the now dispersing council, he sighed heavily and rubbed his hand over his eyes.

This was not the most ideal way to dispose of a traitorous queen and announce his undying love for a Rider. He winced as he thought of the possible ramifications such declarations may have caused him. Another peak at the lord-governors revealed that they in fact were studying him intently as they quietly conferred amongst themselves.

Thankfully, those who had scheduled an audience that day had all been attended to, and with the lateness of the day, many of the courtiers had begun to filter out. And it could not have come sooner.

With the weight of so many secrets lifted from his shoulders, Zachary supposed he ought to have felt relieved. Instead he felt a bone-deep weariness that he suspected would linger past this attempted coup. A voice drew him from his musings as he lifted his head to meet the gaze of Brienne. 'Sire, should you wish to retire, the council announced their intent to break until tomorrow morning.'

The king nodded in response and offered a smile as he grasped the handles of the chair and stood. 'I should like to spend a quiet evening in my rooms then. Be so kind as to inform me when Fastion leaves the castle walls?'

Brienne bowed at the waist and backed away a few steps before turning on her heel. A few lingering persons murmured their greetings as he slowly made his way to the center of the circular chamber, where Lily was sprawled happily in a few lingering patches of sunlight that filtered through the window. He received a few tail thumps before she closed her eyes once more and gave an exaggerated sigh, announcing her intent to ignore his presence.

Zachary chuckled and crouched on his heels to scratch at her exposed belly. 'There is a warmer place upstairs by the fire . . .'

Lily did not give any indication of having heard her master.

'Perhaps a pillow and some cheese?'

Lily's eyes flew open at the mention of the beloved treat and she raised her muzzle questioningly in his direction, almost to check the sincerity of the offer. The king arched an eyebrow and tapped her on the nose. 'You have to come with me first.'

A shadow was cast over Lily as the fringes of a iridescent green cloak came into view as he continued to stroke Lily's coat. 'Why should she take something like that on faith, my lord?'

The soft spoken tones resonated deeply within him, almost causing a halt in his breathing as he stared vacantly down at the tiled floor. He shook his head sadly, closing his eyes briefly as he pushed such thoughts away to answer the lady tentatively, 'I think the little creature knows I will fulfill my promises by now.'

There was a few moments of silence before the lady spoke, 'Yes . . . I suppose you always have kept your promises.'

Zachary kept his gaze down and spoke haltingly as a slow smile came to his face, 'A steadfast vote of confidence then?'

She chuckled, 'Just an observation. Whether by chance or sheer stubbornness, you have kept your word.'

The king gave a shuddering breath, 'I have not always done so, my lady.'

'In what regard?'

'I did not find a way to keep a promise when it mattered most,' he whispered, desperately wishing to look up but not willing to suffer the disappointment. It was cruel the way his mind seemed to play tricks even now, a full year after the failed expedition.

The lady paused before replying slowly, 'I'd say that today would put a different perspective on things.'

Zachary gave a rueful laugh, 'It changes nothing.'

'Your marriage is nullified in the eyes of the law,' she reminded him gently.

'The woman I love is dead,' he said bluntly, 'As I said, it changes nothing.'

Laren's voice called from the open doorway, 'Oh for Aeryc's sake, moonling, would you just _look_ up and quit being so melodramatic?'

Zachary cast an almost indignant look at his big sister before reluctantly looking up into the mirth filled eyes of his Rider. His eyes widened in shock as he gaped at her in bewilderment. 'Kari?'

Karigan arched a brow and bit back another chuckle, 'I haven't been forgotten then?'

'But . . . you died. Killed in Blackveil,' he stuttered as he fell back on his seat, oblivious to the terrier who took the opportunity to get off the hard floor.

'Says who? I hope you were not going to believe the rantings of a silly woman, who had the bad taste to chase after a man like Amberhill?' Karigan wrinkled her nose.

Zachary's amber eyes continued to stare at her with unabashed joy and hunger but he did not reply to her rhetorical question, choosing instead to take in her fully healed appearance that was garbed in the muted forest colors of the Eletians. She in turn observed the faint lines that now graced his face and the looseness of his clothing. With a concerned frown, she crouched down next to him and regarded him, 'I seem to be in better shape than you, my liege.'

He shrugged self-deprecatingly but a smile erupted on his face at being in such close proximity. 'Still on the mend, I'm afraid.'

Karigan smiled softly and reached out to gently stroke Lily, who had found a precarious perch on her master's lap. They did not speak for several minutes as their hands both tangled in Lily's silky coat. He interlaced his fingers with hers and rested their hands on his knee, 'What shall we do now?' he asked quietly.

She cocked her head to the side and blushed as she stumbled over her next words, 'I suppose you should make a bid for my hand.'

Both of Zachary's eyebrows shot up, 'Just like that? With whom do I apply?'

'Besides my father? I suppose you should speak to Prince Jametari,' she stated with a hint of mirth.

He blinked, 'Oh?'

Karigan grinned, 'I was made an honorary citizen of Eletia and as I think the prince had his suspicions, given a sizeable dowry.'

Zachary's hand tightened on her own, 'I am rather sure that Clan G'ladheon is wealthy enough to provide a dowry, but you know I would take you as you are.'

'I know that,' she winked, 'But do you not think that the council would relish renewed negotiations for a trade agreement as part of said dowry?'

He laughed, 'I would think such overtures would be very welcome.'

She tossed her braid over her shoulder, 'Telagioth and Ealdaen came as my escort and to speak to the Lord-Governors on the prince's authority.'

Zachary glanced in the direction of his advisors and saw that they were indeed in deep conversation with the two Eletians and Captain Mapstone, their faces betraying their excitement as they gestured in animation. 'I suppose this has all been planned out for me then?'

Karigan reached over to pick up the now sleeping Lily and settle the sleeping dog in her own lap. 'I did not want to give you too much time to think about it. We have lost enough time as it is,' she said with a twinkle in her eyes.

He watched Lily's limbs twitch as she chased a rabbit in her sleep, 'This seems a bit too easy.'

She wryly nodded in agreement, 'I admit to being surprised when so much was wrapped up neatly before I arrived.'

Zachary scooted closer and scratched Lily's ears. 'Should we trust this good luck?'

Karigan shrugged, 'Probably not. For all we know another pirate fleet might swoop in, declare war, you'll have to offer yourself as some sort of ritual sacrifice to the daughter of another lord-governor, it will likely drag me back out to the road, give you more grey hair-,'

She was abruptly cut off as his mouth descended upon hers. It lasted only a few cherished moments before he pulled back and planted a kiss on her nose. 'Best we marry in the next few days then and not tempt fate.'

'Give my father enough time to get here,' she prompted with a flush in her cheeks.

'Deal,' Zachary replied as he got to his feet and offered a hand to assist her. She took the proffered hand, with her other gingerly cradling Lily as she rose to stand.

The terrier's limp paws dangled over her forearm as they walked leisurely out of the double doors, not speaking but trading shy glances and hopeful smiles. The two Weapons that trailed after them suppressed their own grins as they followed the couple into the upper reaches of the castle. Upon reaching the door of his study, Zachary allowed one of the Weapons to open the door and enter. He then looked at Karigan in question.

She shook her head and transferred Lily to his arms. 'You will see me tomorrow, my lord.'

'Zachary,' he corrected her gently.

Karigan allowed a small smile to grace her features before she assented, 'Zachary . . .'

She began to walk back towards the stairwell but he called out one last time, 'You are sure?'

Karigan turned on the top step, 'I am not going anywhere,' she assured him.

He grinned and watched her disappear into the dark recess of the stairwell, then ducked back into his study with a spring in his step.

* * *

It feels quick but we are open to one-shot sequels.


End file.
